A new life
by Clarisse972
Summary: Carrie and Brody try to start a new life together after a half-successful extraction. They will have to learn to live again. Will they overcome their fears?
1. Part 1

Hello, this is my second Homeland fanfic.  
It is an AU that takes place at the end of Season 3.  
I wish to give my favorite couple an ending less atrocious.  
I have received encouragements and I want to thank **Terzima** and **Lipamo**.  
I have voluntarily left aside some technical aspects, I hope it won't bother you; I want to focus on the characters' psychology. It is about drama and romance.  
All the characters I am going to use belong to **Howard Gordon and Alex Gansa**. Thanks to them for using **Gideon Raff**'s idea.

I thank a lot **Terzima** for the translation (from French to English.)

Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 1

* * *

We had just landed, the extraction had gone well except for one thing: we were not going back to the USA. Our country had betrayed us but despite everything, Saul had released us from a deadly trap. I didn't know how or why he had chosen to decide against the initial decision but there was one thing I was sure of: I would be forever grateful to him. My hand was holding Brody's. I had slept all through the flight, reassured by that simple touch. He had slept less, or even not at all.  
He was staring at the window, his gaze unfocused, lost in some ugly memory.

"Come," I said, pulling him up by the hand.

I was unable to let go of his hand.  
All we had was false IDs and a little money. An agent guided us out of the small private airplane and we climbed down slowly, a bit confused, inhaling the cold air of the German land. I held his hand a little tighter, was I afraid he would escape me? Probably yes, I had almost lost him so many times.  
With his other hand, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, unable to stand the gaze of anyone else but me on him. However there were very few people in the small airport. Agent X returned to the cockpit without a word. We were alone now. As I expected, a surge of stress rose inside me and I fought it fiercely to force the hectic beatings of my heart to slow down. I could not falter, not now, not when he was counting on me.  
We walked towards the exit, going through an empty hall. Outside, a driver was waiting for us. Brody hesitated for a second, scrutinizing the driver of the sedan with distrust. Out of habit, I analyzed the man of a certain age, sitting in the driver's seat, dark-haired, clean-shaven, his eyes looking at the road in front of him, no tension, nothing suspicious. I relaxed, Brody felt it and relaxed too – at least relatively.

Sitting side by side, we buckled our seat belts. The man acknowledged us with a slight nod of the head and quickly drove into the traffic which was apparently rather light. Watching the road signs, I understood we had left the outskirts of Munich. Brody looked at the road and cast worried glances through the back window.

"Where are we going?" I asked.  
"Ulm," the driver answered. "You'll sleep there tonight, tomorrow morning, you'll have to drive to your final destination not far from the French border. You'll find the detailed information in the glove compartment of the car that will be waiting for you in Ulm."

So we were assigned to residence in Germany. Not so bad a destination, I had vague remnants of German from my studies. I leaned back, trying to forget all the negative, I had to focus on what counted most, and what counted most was within me and by my side.  
The drive only lasted an hour and a half. I had watched the landscape of this unknown country go by, wondering how I would fit in. Fear gripped me again, but I pushed it back, determined. In my life, I had never been so sure of one thing: I would painfully miss my work, my family, in fact all that I loved, but I knew it was the right decision. No, it was the only possible decision for me to live fully.  
It was noon when we arrived at the little house that was waiting for us on the road leading out of Ulm. The owner was a friendly young lady, she greeted us and Brody answered mechanically in perfect German. I was surprised at that new ability I didn't know about and realized there were many things I didn't know about him.

"_You know the most important,"_ I reassured myself.

She followed up with a discussion in which Brody participated minimally, and took us to our guest room on the upper floor. It was simple but cozy and exactly what we needed: isolated and quiet. I visited the place quickly; from the window, all I could see was a garden crossed by a rivulet. Our driver was already far away, I thought, also gone without a word. We were alone now.

"Please ask her where our car is."

Brody was about to comply but she answered with a smile.

"I understand American a little. Your car is in the driveway."

I had seen it but thought it was hers. We thanked her. She left us after offering us lunch, I was hungry, I found the idea tempting but a single glance toward Brody dissuaded me.

"No, we'll be fine, thank you."  
"She'll have lunch with you," he ordered without even looking at me, "I'll catch some sleep."

To support his words, he went and lay down on the queen-size bed that was inviting for me too. I was exhausted.

"Brody…" I started to protest.  
"You will certainly not remain without eating. Go ahead, I'll stay here."

He had already closed his eyes, I sensed a need to take care of me despite the chasm existing between us. So I obeyed and didn't try to discuss. In the door frame, I stopped for a second, uneasy at the prospect of leaving him behind if only for a minute. I didn't know what was in his head because after finding out that his country had rejected him despite his heroic act, he had expressed nothing, as if he expected it. What were his hopes in life? What did he expect from me? Did he really want to live with me or did he have to follow me because there was no other solution?

"You can have lunch in room if you wish," offered the young woman in a friendly way.  
"Thank you Madam."

I didn't know her name, and neither did she know ours. She stepped back and whispered to me: "I'll be right back."  
She closed the door, my feet were already taking me back to Brody. Sitting at the foot end of the bed, I took my shoes off, rubbed my sore feet. He opened an eye.

"You always achieve your ends, don't you?" He sounded serious but I felt the shadow of a smile. He reached out for me, I moved little by little toward him, still sitting. He took me by the waist, laid his head near my thigh. "Carrie, what are we going to do?"

I gently stroked his head that prickled the palm of my hand, first signs of his hair growing again, to my delight. "We're going to eat, have a shower, sleep. Then we'll go where we'll be safe."  
"We'll never be safe anywhere," he contradicted me, closing his eyes.  
"I don't care, as long as we're the three of us".

It was my only reality now.

* * *

More to come soon


	2. Part 2

Thanks to **Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and Bookworm1986** for their reviews and encouragements! And to **Terzima** for the translation.

You have no idea how much I love writing this fic!  
Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 2

* * *

I continued to stroke his head down to the back of his neck. His breathing got slower and he finally fell asleep. I liked to think that my presence reassured him, and I hoped he was going to get some rest. There were a few knocks at the door.

"Come in!"

Our young hostess, as blond as me, came in with a well-stocked tray. My stomach rumbled as a matter of principle. I gently slipped away from Brody's arms, covered him with the plaid that was folded on the foot of the bed and walked up to meet the young woman. She handed me the tray and wished me bon appétit. She glanced at Brody:

"When he awake, he can come have lunch."

I thanked her and she walked out silently. I put the tray on the small coffee table near the TV set and took my jacket off. Sitting on the rocking-chair that I had set sideways, I could see both the window and Brody. I literally devoured the potatoes and the beef, but ignored the crudités. I downed half of the jug of water and looked at the chocolate mousse with envy.  
I had no more nausea and was going through a positive phase of euphoria despite the treatment that had been readjusted and considerably reduced. I took the ramequin of mousse, suppressing the negative questions that were trying to force their way through the armor of well-being that I had built around me.

"Damn, this is fucking good!"

I scraped the ramequin, licked the spoon and sighed with happiness. I had never been very interested in food and could go without eating if I needed to for my work. But now, my body called and called for it – unless it was the baby?

"Now are you a little foodie?" I laughed.

I rested my head on the back of the chair, oddly serene, enjoying the warmth of the sunrays. My gaze shifted from the blue sky to Brody. He had not moved at all, curled up in a corner of the bed. His features were soft, almost relaxed. I never got tired of watching him.

I had dozed off. Or rather fallen fully asleep, since I had not noticed when he moved me. I was comfy in the bed, feeling warm, and the sun was setting down. My eyes searched for the clock and straining them a bit, I saw it was past seven.

He was not there, I heard the shower in the bathroom. I waited to be a little less drowsy to get up. I was still tired, I didn't think I was so exhausted. I mechanically stroked my belly that was discreetly getting round, I sometimes felt light gentle touches, concrete evidence of the life that was growing in there.  
I jumped because this time the contact was more precise and I had felt it under my fingers.  
I slipped out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Brody?"

I was feverish, an unknown feeling was turning my already half fucked-up brain upside down and I wanted to share it with him.  
No answer. I knocked harder and strained my ears. Still nothing. My enthusiasm fell flat and I entered the room in a panic. It was rather spacious, lit by spots, and the large bathtub on my left took up half of the space. Brody sat in it, his head bowed down. The water gushing from the big showerhead above his head hit him abundantly. The bathtub was about to overflow, I swiftly turned off the faucets and crouched down to his level. With my elbows on the edge of the tub, I scanned his face with concern. He closed his eyes, his face tightened, signs of the upcoming wreck. And, without warning, he let himself slide underwater. Jesus Christ!

"Damn it, Brody!" I yelled, stepping into the tub to try and haul him out of the water. He was like a dead weight, my clothes were heavy with the water and hampered me.

"Fuck! Brody!"

I was not scolding him, I was crying because I was unable to keep him by my side. I stopped fighting, drawn by his face blurred in the moving water. In turn, I plunged my face into the water to join him. My body landed gently against his body and my cheek pressed against his face. I had not done any thinking, his presence was all that mattered. All was silence, and calm and… I started to run out of air! Don't be afraid, I repeated to myself as I clenched my fingers on his torso.

I was suddenly able to breathe because he had emerged from the water, pulling me with him. I threw my hair back and clung on to his neck. His breathing was slow in contrast with mine which was irregular. I couldn't think anymore, entrapped in a frightening torpor. He tried to undo my hold around his neck but I held fast. He moved his head back and faced me, the trouble prompted by his close presence gave way to a deep sense of unease. By his expression, you could have thought that I had betrayed him. Paralyzed in reaction to the shock, I let him get out of my arms and the tub, he grabbed a towel to dry himself.

"Well, since I'm already in the water, might as well have a shower!"

Pitiful attempt at putting an end to such a heavy moment. He didn't bother answering and wrapped the towel around his waist. I pulled the bathtub plug, opened my shirt, it was hard with my shaking fingers. He had long left the room when I found myself completely naked. I opened the faucets and closed the glass door in order not to add water to the floor which was already flooded. I scrubbed myself with soap and shampoo and it kept my mind busy enough for me to wind down. I wanted to forget what had just happened.

Out of the tub, I stepped on the bathmat and used it to soak up the water. Then I stood in front of the mirror and examined my changing body with a critical eye. My breast was getting heavier, it tingled, my waist was losing its shape, my hips were widening. A shiver ran through me, I opened the closet on my right, grabbed a towel to dry myself and wrapped myself in it. I let my hair air dry, the humidity made it wavy. There was a toothbrush on the sink, so I went in search of another one for me. The little cabinet under the sink held a treasure: hairbrush, hair drier, aftershave, toothpaste, razor, a manicure set and other toiletries including toothbrushes!

When I went back to the bedroom, I breathed better. Brody was kneeling on the floor, his hands on his thighs, his feet under him, as if to pray. Yet, he remained motionless staring at the TV where our two faces appeared here and there. I took the remote from his hand and turned off the damned thing. I noticed he had his clothes on, I searched the room with my eyes, saw an open travel bag and moved closer to see what was in it. There were a few basic clothing items like jeans and t-shirts. One for men and one for women. Was underwear optional? Who had prepared that fucking pack?

"What you're looking for is in the zippered side compartment."

At the sound of his voice, my heart starting racing despite myself.

"There is also a vanity case with some stuff for you."

He pointed at the coffee table, I saw the vanity case and also noticed that the tray was gone.

"While you were sleeping, I went to the car and found this, and also a map."

The map was spread out on the floor. It showed how to get to the safe house, no GPS, it was standard procedure. I walked around the map and rummaged through the vanity case. There were my medicines and vitamins, iron, folic acid and all that kind of things.

"Shit, what's all this?" I grumbled as a matter of principle. I appreciated the unexpected attentions, wherever they came from…

_Saul…_

"You should put your clothes on, you're going to catch a cold."

I was anything but cold when he was around.  
To contradict me, he stood up and reached for the door handle.

"Where are you going?"  
"I'm going to eat something."

I tried to invite myself but it was pointless, he was already gone. Far from the room, far from me, far from all kind of life. I hurled everything around me and covered my face with my hands, slumped on the floor and shaking with sobs.

* * *

More to come soon.


	3. Part 3

Thanks to **Terzima** for her support and her work of translation.

Thanks to **Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and ****indigovioletstargazer**for their reviews and encouragements!

**Kym** : Thanks a lot!^^ Here is the next chapter.

Thanks too for your favorites and for following me (this sentence is my own translation, hoping there is no fault).

Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 3

* * *

I had dressed, cleaned up my mess, swallowed my tears and now I went downstairs to the dining room. I was a bit uncomfortable in my clothes, I had to think of getting myself a new wardrobe. I was barefoot, my feet didn't want to hear about shoes. The icy contact with the floor tiles of the living room made me freezing cold. Or was it the sight of Brody and his absent-minded look? He was eating actually, which was good news. He was alone: had he dismissed our hostess?

I hoped I had wiped away all traces of my weakness, I didn't want him to see me sad, it was something hard for him to deal with. I forced myself to suppress the pressure on my chest, braced myself and decided to join him. I could feel the smell of his food from where I was, my senses were sharpened: my senses of smell and taste were stronger. When I was near him, I noticed a second set of cutlery. A cloche covered the plate. Had he expected I would join him?

"It's taken you a long time."

I started at the sound of his weary voice. He kept on eating without so much as a glance and I sat quickly, my appetite expressed itself like a separate entity. If I continued like this, I would become obese! Whatever! I was starving!

I ate again greedily, I thought in a corner of my head that I should hire that woman to feed me _ad vitam aeternam._ At that precise moment, I loved her madly. I smiled at the incongruous thought but I lost my smile when I met Brody's neutral gaze.

"You definitely need to put on weight, you're skinny."

A bit offended, I didn't answer. Yes, I lost a few pounds following him halfway around the world to get him out of the trap we had put him in.

He took a napkin and stood up to dab my mouth and chin. Did I eat that clumsily?

"You eat too fast, it will get stuck in your throat."

I didn't listen to him, I was petrified by his lengthy dabbing. My insistent gaze unsettled him, he stopped and sat down, putting the napkin near his plate. He drank a glass of water and started to clear the table while ordering me to finish my food. There was wine on the table, I looked at the bottle with envy. Damn it, it was going to be hard to abstain from drinking alcohol!

"Don't even think about it!" he said, grabbing the untouched bottle.

I finished my main course, my cheese, my dessert within minutes, he was right, I ate too quickly but I wanted to be with him. He was in the kitchen, busy washing the dishes. I cleared what was left on the table and brought it to him. I leaned on my elbows not far from him, watching him openly. It could have been like we were living together, here, in that room. But we were not even close; actually, I had no clue what it was like to live with someone. I never thought I would want it one day. I was too overactive, too dependent on my independence, and too in love with my work.

Now, it was him that I loved, more than anything else on this earth. I felt again that little rubbing in my lower stomach. Was it to remind me that there was not only Brody? I slid my hand mechanically over my belly. I didn't really know what to make of that baby to come, I didn't know if I would love him or her: maternal instinct was a very unclear concept, particularly since my mother left.

"Are you all right?"

He was done with the dishes and leaned against the sink, watching me, worried. How could I share my fears with him?

"Do you think I'm going to be a good mother?"

I blurted out the words, I was astoundingly candid with him, I couldn't lie. Or rather, I didn't know how to lie any more. He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Why did you keep it?"

A bitter taste formed in my mouth when I realized what he was asking me, because I had questioned myself a lot about that in my down moments.

"Because this baby is a part of you."

And if I loved him, I could love "him or her", couldn't I?

He turned around and started to dry the dishes. His habit of keeping me wondering was frustrating, I closed up the distance between us and snatched the towel from his hands.

"Talk to me Brody!"

I forced him to look at me. A dark flicker hardened his irises.

"To say what? That this wasn't the life I wanted for you? You know that already," he sighed.

"It's my choice! My choice!"

"You're stubborn, as usual, but have you thought about it?"

"Yes, I have."

"Really thought about it? About the life you think you'll have? About the life you think you'll give it?"

It was as if he didn't intend to be part of it. I thought back to what happened in the bathroom and I began to run out of air. I couldn't answer, I didn't feel well.

He took the towel back and started wiping the dishes again before my confused eyes. I heard the steps of our hostess who was about to get in, I put on a mask and smiled to her as soon as she stepped in.

"Should have called me," she scolded us, pushing Brody away from the sink.

He complimented her on the dinner, at least that's what I figured out. She thanked him in her mother tongue. I wondered how a girl who seemed so nice could be living by herself. I stared intently at Brody, I wanted our conversation to continue, even if I wasn't good at it. Communicating on personal matters was a challenge for me. He wished her good night, I did the same and I followed him out of the room… except that he veered toward the entrance door. I started to follow him.

"You have no shoes on, Carrie."

He was outside already and turned around the house. I went up in our room to watch him from the window. I grumbled, I was angry. Damn it, Brody, don't reject me! I thought, pained. I knew he needed some fresh air so I sucked it up and decided to wait. I switched the TV on, flipped through the channels, and, after a few minutes, my jaw started dropping as I watched the screen. I was in shock.

After some twenty minutes – the time it took me to digest the news – I returned to my vantage point by the window. He had not moved an inch, my simmering mind calmed down just by looking at him. My adult life had been driven by loyalty, patriotism but also by lies, cruelty and indifference. But lies had prevailed and here, lying could not win, sheer truth was growing inside me, guided me and gave me strength. I contracted my fingers, I had a compulsive need to have him beside me. I slipped into my jacket to go and join him over there.

Stepping on the cold stones didn't bother me, the grass was cool and soft. I slumped by his side, dipping my feet into the water. It was lukewarm, strangely enough. He shook his head, irritated.

"You never give up, do you?"  
"You already know the answer."

I lay down, scanning the leaves in the trees, listening to their rustling, the lapping of the rivulet, enjoying the appearance of the first stars. I relaxed, in an abnormal state of euphoria. Hormones, I understood. I was sensitive, too sensitive, even more perceptive than usual.

"What choice do I have?" he finally asked me, his gaze lost on the horizon.  
"The choice to live and start it all over again."  
"I've already had a family, children and a wife, and now they hate me. Worse still, I'm dead for them."

I knew he was thinking of Dana in particular. An open, gaping wound that would never heal. I knew it. Should I tell him that it was now a fact, that we had been pronounced dead after a bombing during the attempted extraction? A single glance at him told me the answer was no. I took his hand on which he was leaning. He let me do it, and I put it on my stomach underneath my t-shirt.

"But we do love you," I said, determined.

He removed his hand as if he had received an electric shock. I took it back and placed it in its initial position.

"I felt it move," I confessed with emotion.

He looked at me over his shoulder. I held his gaze forcefully. I wanted to share my joy, my confidence with him, but also how insecure I was feeling. I needed him to be able to face such an uncertain future. Needed him to make the happiness that was close at hand become reality. Needed him not to lose my mind.

"We love you Brody, as you are. And you, do you love us?"

* * *

To be continued.


	4. Part 4

I thank **Terzima** for her support and her work of translation into English.

Thanks to** Benex**, **Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and Bookworm1986 **for their reviews and encouragements!

This is a T-rated chapter and it took me forever to write it.  
Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 4

* * *

_"We love you as you are, and you, do you love us?"_

The question hovered in the air, as if suspended. I was waiting anxiously for his answer, it was unbearable. His hand on my stomach, covered by my own hands, radiated a familiar and reassuring heat. He didn't turn around, he was focused on me, trying to tell me something without uttering a word. But I needed to hear it.

"I don't know what you feel any more. I'm not even sure to feel something."

My eyes left him to conceal my distress, I searched the dark sky for courage. I needed a great deal of it to admit I was heading for disaster.

He removed his hand and I didn't hold it back this time: he wanted to take some distance again. It was better actually. My sensitivity was so high that it could easily overflow and I didn't want to see him collapse when confronted to my pain.  
Against all odds, he lay down by my side, I could make out his profile. He brushed my cheek with his hand, applying a little pressure so that I would turn my face toward him. I let him guide me, his fiery fingers made me feverish. My eyes fluttered around him without really looking at him.

"I don't have much to offer you."

I turned so that I was facing him. His head was lying on his folded arm, I adopted the same position. His hand had left my cheek but it kept the mark of his touch.

"Of course you do!"

His eyebrows formed a V but I continued:

"You always refuse to open up because you're afraid to suffer and I can understand that, damn, yes, I get that! But I'm struggling and you're not helping me at all! I'm looking for the strength to keep both our heads above water and I won't be able to go on like this forever, Brody!"

I lowered my eyes.

"I'm scared," I confessed in a whisper.

I still felt that the dam holding back my pain was about to break and I wanted to hide it from him. He pulled me against him with his free arm which he put on my shoulder. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in an audible relief. I felt him shudder while I relaxed. I slipped my arm around his waist.

We stayed like this for a long time, I relished the tenderness he gave me and that I had been deprived of. His hand lingered in my hair, then it slid down between my shoulder blades and stayed there.

"You didn't answer my question."  
"What question?"  
"Do you love us?"

Why did I keep pushing him like that?

He remained silent. I raised my head to face him again. His eyes were shining, his expression tried to hold something back. His hand gently continued its way down to the small of my back laid bare by my short t-shirt. The touch of his warm hand set me on fire, and I forgot all my interrogations. I closed my eyes, arching my back, hungry for his body. He reacted in turn, his hand pressing on me to put us closer. My mouth found his own like a radar, his other arm left his head and slipped under my face to close on the nape of my neck. He kissed me slowly, in contrast to the frantic passion of our bodies that were searching for one another. His kiss became so deep that I lost track of the universe. There were only me and him left.

Us.

I savored his specific taste. My arousal was intensely painful, made stronger by all the months spent without him. A tiny sense of guilt tarnished the moment when I remembered that pale clone met at some grocery store. He had satisfied the physical neediness but the wound on my heart had been left gaping. Only Brody could heal it, only Brody could make me happy.

His mouth shifted on my jaw, he thrust his hand under my jeans, under my panties, grabbing my butt. My desire became unbearable and threatened to explode while his tongue drew a fiery way on my throat. My hand found its way under his t-shirt, guessing each scar of his back. He made me tip over onto my back and fell down on me, by reflex I tensed up, I had something to protect. He felt it and froze, dampened. He stared at my belly, breathing fast. He let go of me, straightened up despite my protest.

"Let's go sleep."  
"I don't want to sleep!"  
"I'm tired."

He held out his hand to help me stand up. I caught him and tried to pull him toward me but he had anticipated my move. He yanked and I had no other choice but stand on my feet. He started to walk, convinced I would follow. Had I made a mistake? Would this child pull us apart? Was it one burden too many?

Inside the house, the lights were off, only the staircase lamp was twinkling. There was no sign of our hostess.

In the bedroom, he locked the door, took his jeans off and went into the bathroom. I rummaged through the bag, searching for nightclothes, to no avail. He came out and directly got in the bed.  
I turned the light off.  
The moon took over, lighting the room with its soft glow. I also went quickly to the bathroom, undressed completely and got into the crisp sheets. I was not ready to sleep but had too much pride to beg for his attention. I went through the episode near the rivulet again with hindsight.  
My face twisted, I was suffering more than ever.  
"You think I'm strong, but I'm not," I broke the silence. "Not when I'm carrying your child in your complete indifference."  
He didn't move an inch.  
"You know my feelings for you," I flared up madly at his inertia. "I opened up to you several times! I gave you all! All!"  
I had yelled the last words, my fists against my temples, furious and aching at the same time. He suddenly turned around, making me jump. He hauled himself above me, on his elbows not to impose his weight on me.  
"What about me? Didn't I give enough to this world?"

Anger? Was it what he was expressing? I blinked under the immensity of his gaze which was black in the dark room.  
I didn't answer, exhilarated by the sudden strength he projected. I circled his face with my hands, he caught one of my fists.  
"Answer me!"  
Anger made his voice shake, making it harsher, more manly, increasing my arousal.  
"What do you expect from me? Answer me!"

Right now, I wanted him to put an end to my agony. My mind was blurred with desire, I could hardly think. I tried to kiss him, wriggling like an eel, thirsting. Without warning, he got rid of the barrier that was between us and took me brusquely. I tensed up, not in pain but in stress. Not like that. Not like that.

"Not like that," I was able to utter to bring him to reason.

It was not the same passion. I couldn't define what was going on but I didn't want to deal with it. I pushed him back vigorously, he resisted, letting out a long groan, indifferent to my refusal, then slumped on his side.

My heart was beating up to my temples. I heard him turn over. Lying on my back, I watched the ceiling, the dark and moving shapes created by the moon. I wanted to forget about the dampness between my legs, the frustration of unsatisfied and denied desire. I wanted to forget my mistakes, forget my actions, forget my love. I wanted to forget my pregnancy, forget Brody.  
But it was impossible.  
I felt a heavy pressure on my chest. A moan left my lips and I couldn't help it. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. In the dark, I can't tell how long I stayed standing against the sink before groping my way into the bathtub. I wanted to erase all traces of that inappropriateness. I couldn't find any other word to define what had just happened. Once I was done, I allowed myself to cry under the stream of tepid water, thus my tears would go unnoticed.

When I went back to bed, I knew he was asleep. I snuggled up against his back – it was where I wanted to be and nowhere else – closed my eyes and sank into sleep, exhausted from crying.

I woke up with a start, confused. Was it daylight? Yes, but the thick curtains had been pulled to soften the light. Brody was there, turned toward me, his eyes locked in mine. Everything came back to my mind, it made my breathing heavier. I mechanically ran my hand over my mouth to make sure I had not drooled in my sleep.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
It was audibly and painfully sincere. And his face was an open book. My chin quivered, so did my lips, but I didn't want to fall apart before him.  
"Don't worry."  
I tried to act it cool, unconcerned. He was not fooled.  
"I didn't mean to hurt you."  
" You didn't."  
"Carrie – " he sighed.  
My head shifted to the side.

I was being stupid to continue with my little drama act. He was trying to communicate and this time, I was the one who refused the opportunity. He pushed aside the part of the sheet that was between us to get closer, laying me bare at the same time. I started to put the sheet back on me but he stopped me, scrutinizing each part of my body. It was as if he had flipped a switch. His heavy gaze brutally rekindled my desire. He brushed against my neck, my clavicle, one of my breasts. My chest heaved as if under an electric shock. His fingers worked their way around my belly, stroked my waist, my hip, my thigh and finally my knee. He stopped his exploration and I tried to know why. The blue of his eyes was luminous, aphrodisiac. I didn't know how to breathe anymore.

My tension exploded when finally his fingers slipped between my thighs. I squeezed them convulsively in an experimental rubbing. I bit my lips not to scream while pleasure mounted uninvited, making all my erogenous zones jerk until I reached orgasm.

He laid his head on my chest while I unclenched my thighs, my body limp.  
I had known sexual pleasure under various forms but this one was new to me. It had been unexpected and powerful, as powerful as my love for him. I loved him so much that his simple touch, his scent, the texture of his skin triggered a rapturous delight.

"We've got to go," he told me.  
He was right. Reality caught up with me with a boomerang precision.  
"I'll go and get something for you to eat, get yourself ready."  
He was already out of bed, pulling on his jeans. His gestures were mechanical, unconvinced. Was he suddenly scared like I was scared? He cleared up the map, our stuff that was on the floor, the bag.  
"Brody?" I called him urgently.  
"Yes?"  
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, ridiculously wrapped up in the sheet. I held out my hand. He came nearer without hesitation and opened up his arms for me.  
"It will be fine."  
His words had the intended effect: I felt better, safe, enfolded in his arms.

* * *

More to come soon.


End file.
